


Take Me Home

by bybibucky



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friend's Brother Bucky - Freeform, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Underage Drinking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virginity, brother Steve, which lasts like two minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28108887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bybibucky/pseuds/bybibucky
Summary: You’re nearing your 20s and still haven’t lost your virginity. A plan to finally do so goes incredibly wrong and your brother’s best friend ends up being your night in shining armor. But what’s new?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader (siblings)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 193





	Take Me Home

The thing was, you didn’t _feel_ drunk, but you’d never felt like this either. Not while you were at home on that dancefloor, the beat thrumming in your veins, strange bodies moving in sync with yours, that layer of sweat on your skin giving you a glow in the neon lights. Not until you stepped away from the crowd, drowsy with the sensations of it all, as the alcohol only intensified everything. You felt brave enough to go up to the bar again, and this time, you would actually capture the attention of the bartender and order something. Or someone would order for you. Either way, more alcohol would slip past your lips and into your already intoxicated system. You’d gotten drunk at home before this. The feeling that after this next drink you’d have to slow down crept up into your thoughts as you got closer to your destination, but you pushed it aside. Tonight was not the night for overthinking and regrets, tonight was the night of endless, thoughtless fun. You were on a mission, after all.

The guy that caught your eye from a few feet away was handsome, yes, but what had made you look twice was the way he carried himself, leaning against the wood countertop in such a cool way that screamed ‘model’, glancing around the room like a wolf looking out for prey. You wanted to be just that and tonight, you’d get to be it.

You walked up to him as brave as ever, movements as nonchalant as you could muster, and came to a halt right next to him. He’d noticed you for sure, and when you turned around to face him, his eyes were already there.

“Hey,” you said mostly out of desperation to get out anything at all and glanced up at him through your lashes like you had read would turn men on.

His nonchalance shifted into more of a frown than anything else rather quickly as he gave you a once-over, and he didn’t even offer a greeting back before he pushed himself away from the heavy and expensive-looking wood of the bar and disappeared. It was a fairly simple move but it hit you like a bucket of ice water. This was a mistake. What the hell were you thinking?

You needed to get out of there and fast. Pushing against the partying people that only slowed you down, you fought your way to the door you’d come through. Bile already rising in your throat, you barely made it out in time before you threw up your dinner into the bushes next to the club. You felt all of it at once, shame, disgust, humiliation, pain, nausea, and the people around you were quick took a step back. The contents of your stomach on the floor beneath your feet mixed with the tears streaming down your face, as you held onto the branches of the bush for dear life. It was all too much.

When finally the dry-heaving stopped and you felt like you could move again, you slid down on the ground, head slumping against your knees that you tightly pulled to your chest. You wanted home.

Your hands, practically on their own accord, slowly moved to pull your phone out of your bra where you’d put it for safekeeping and didn’t have to scroll down far through your contacts to reach the name you were looking for. Under ‘B’ they tapped the only name beginning with that letter on the list.

You let it ring twice before you were ready to give up, but then the third ring turned into rustling and a sleepy, “doll? What are you doing up so late?”

That broke the dam. Silent tears, ones that hadn’t really stopped flowing after you’d started to cry a few minutes ago, only multiplied as you shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts.

“Y/N?” He sounded much more awake now and you immediately felt bad for disturbing him.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out through the tears and your aching throat.

There was more rustling at the other end of the line and you listened to it, trying to concentrate on anything other than the pain in your chest. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You said nothing. Couldn’t.

He sighed, so much you could make out, and asked, “where are you?” He was annoyed, you knew it.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called.” You pushed the red button faster than you could think about it and let your hair fall around your face to shield yourself from the curious gazes bystanders gave you.

In your hands, as you were tightly grasping it, your phone began to vibrate.

“Hello?” you asked dumbly, not having looked at the caller ID, although you should have known who it was.

“Y/N, please tell me where you are,” Bucky said, “I can’t help you if I can’t find you.”

Your face scrunched up in an ugly frown as you began to cry harder, trying your best to keep quiet. The name of the club you’d gone to left your mouth in a helpless whisper before you heard the engine of his car come to life through the speakers of your phone.

“Give me ten minutes and stay on the line.”

You sat there, head between your knees, holding onto the phone for dear life, and you had no idea how much time passed. Whether it was ten minutes that it took him to get to you or ten hours, you couldn’t tell. But when a figure crouched down in front of you, you weren’t present enough to be alerted by it.

Bucky had noticed you barely, your hiding spot beneath the bushes was the last place he’d wanted to look for you. He saw the vomit next to you and frowned. But he would ask about it later. For now, he wanted you out of this situation.

“Doll,” he mumbled and gently ran a hand over the back of your head. You didn’t even jump at the contact, even though you usually were so easily spooked. “I’m here.”

You took a shaky breath, not knowing what to do.

“Can you look at me?” He needed to see your face, needed to know why you were like this all of a sudden, frightened like a cornered animal.

It took a few moments, but once he was face to face with you, his heart broke. “What happened?”

You shook your head, not wanting to answer.

“Did somebody hurt you?” Bucky asked softly, although he felt anger creep up in the back of his mind at the mere thought.

Shaking your head again, you whispered, “take me home, please?”

Bucky’s features softened, and he nodded, holding out his hands for you. Once you stood, he gave you a once-over, instinctively checking for injuries. “You’re shivering. Here.” Without hesitating, he shrugged out of his coat and pulled the warm garment tightly over your shoulders. It was way too big on you, of course, and the hem of it almost reached your knees. “It’s way too cold out for you to wear this thin of a jacket.” The frown he wore wouldn’t leave until he knew for sure that you were safe. He had an obligation after all. When your best friend’s little sister calls you crying, you move your ass and help her. But, if he was being really honest with himself, you had become much more than an obligation in the last few months. Something in your dynamic had changed, and now you were not that little girl he used to know.

The plush leather seats of his car welcomed you warmly. Bucky’d put the seat warmer on during his way here, hoping it would keep some of the heat until he got you into the safety of his car, and it had.

He reached over to pull the seatbelt across your still shivering form and shut the door, though not before checking again that you were okay. The drive to his house was short, mostly because he didn’t really bother to watch the speed he was going at, the only thing on his mind to get you home. He chose his own house because that was much closer than your family home and because he didn’t want to leave you alone tonight. Couldn’t.

You didn’t say a word during the entire ride and this worried Bucky, considering that he usually had a hard time trying to shut down your bubbly ramblings, not that he actually wanted to. Instead, you’d buried yourself in his coat, breathing his scent in deeply. It warmed you up from the inside, knowing that you were safe now, but you couldn’t help but feel pathetic and helpless, having had to call your brother’s best friend like this. But he was the only one you trusted not to tell your parents. Now that the alcohol really settled into your system, you had no idea how you were going to walk once the car would stop.

Bucky put a comforting hand on your thigh, causing goosebumps to erupt right where he touched you. “You still cold?” he asked. He had the heat blasting and your seat warmer on the highest setting, hoping it would stop you from shivering. You really were trembling like a leaf and it was starting to worry him, this couldn’t be from the cold alone.

Ever since you’d sat down on the curb in front of the club, your vision had been swimming, and once he’d pulled out of the parking lot, it had only become worse. You leaned your head back, groaning.

Bucky’s attention snapped back from the road to you. “Do you need to throw up?” He hoped you didn’t, and you shook your head. You weren’t even sure if there was anything left in your stomach. “Here,” he said and reached behind your seat to pull out a bottle of water, “drink this, it will help.”

You shook your head again, the idea of anything in your mouth right now brought the nausea back.

“Take it anyway,” he said and pushed the bottle between your knees so you could reach it should you want to, not taking his eyes off the road. “We’re almost there.”

A few minutes later, Bucky pulled the car into the garage of his apartment complex before gently putting it in park. He checked you out again, and your condition seemed to have gotten worse. “Do you think you can walk?”

You honestly had to think about it, but your brain was too mushy right now, so you shook your head just in case, not really believing in your abilities to walk or even stand right now. Waiting for him to get out and walk around the car, you anxiously gripped the thick fabric surrounding you. It fell so heavily against your body that you felt secure in it. You’d worn Bucky’s jacket before, but this was oddly different, though that could have been the alcohol.

“C’mon,” he mumbled and leaned over you again, this time to release the seatbelt. He slid his arms under your legs and around your back to lift you out of the car. Kicking the door shut with his foot, he pulled you flush to his chest and you let your head fall forward into the crook of his neck. You didn’t even care how pathetic it made you look, the comfort of being in his arms like this was too great to overthink it.

Bucky gave himself a moment to look at you, and all he could see now was tiredness, the sick-looking tinge to your skin was almost gone. He carried you to the elevator carefully, slightly rocking you back and forth with the movements, but trying to keep them as small as possible so you wouldn’t feel sick again. You were fast asleep by the time he’d laid you down on his mattress.

He could see the childlike features you still showed when you slept, and if he was being honest, he could probably draw them from memory if he needed to. Features softened against the fabric of his pillowcase, you seemed like an angel to him, and he desperately wanted to look away, but couldn’t. Bucky decided to just take off your shoes, and leave the rest of your clothes on, as the tights and skirt looked comfortable enough to sleep in and he didn’t want to take them off without your permission. The coat he exchanged for the duvets he tightly wrapped you in to keep you warm. Beside the bed he put a bucket with a bit of water in it, just in case, and placed several bottles of water on the bedside table, along with some painkillers, should you need them in the morning.

Once he was sure you had everything you could need, he sat down on the sheets on the other side of the bed, leaning against the headboard. He wasn’t going to sleep anymore tonight, he was certain, instead busy with keeping an eye on you.

Studying you like this, he knew that you two could never work. He’d known you since your birth, but he’d never looked at you romantically, not until your eighteenth birthday, where he and your brother had been forced to chaperone as you didn’t want your parents there. The way you’d so confidently stepped down the stairs, wearing tight black jeans and a low-cut top, suddenly made him aware of the curves you’d developed, your matured mind that you’d always had somehow matched your body and he couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone that pulled him in more than you did at that moment. You had walked right past him, and you only talked to him once during the whole night.

“You know, I’m an adult now,” you’d purred in a mock-flirt, trying to pull the beer bottle from his grasp. He held it tighter.

“Doesn’t mean you can drink, doll.”

“I can in Europe,” you’d countered, but he wasn’t very convinced.

“I’m here to chaperone,” he’d reminded you dryly, “your mother will kill me.”

Your face had lit up. “’Will?’ Does that mean I can have a sip?” And then you’d brought the bottle up to your lips.

He should have known then, that you would be the death of him. You’d had him wrapped around your finger ever since you were a little kid, but now he was even more screwed than before, because if feelings are involved, usually everything goes to shit at one point or another.

Next to your radiating warmth and the steady rise and fall of your breathing, it didn’t take long for him to also fall asleep as well. Head rolled back against the wall, he closed his eyes just for a moment before he was gone.

You woke up before him, with an aching need to go to the bathroom, but your body wouldn’t move. Expecting to be in your own bed, you were shocked to find out that you weren’t, and, before panic could rise in your chest, you were even more shocked to find out in whose bed you were. Bucky lay soundlessly beside you, body slumped against the headboard of his king-size bed that engulfed you fully. Lost in the sheets, you had to wiggle a little in an attempt to get your hands free to push loose pieces of hair out of his face. You couldn’t help it. You’d always wanted to do that, especially after he’d started to grow it out a few years ago. Of course, you hadn’t ever tried it before now, and instead carried that silent need around with you whenever his long locks fell into his face.

You’d forgotten how you got here and trying to trace your steps back, your heart sank. What the hell had you done? You’d made a fool of yourself in front of the man you’d had a crush on for years. But the alcohol left in your bloodstream made it easy enough to push those thoughts out of your mind. You’d figured out some time ago that being drunk also meant that you were horny, those two things usually coexisted, and here, like this, it wasn’t any different. Bucky’s shirt had ridden up his toned stomach as he’d slouched down in his sleep, and you couldn’t help but touch. You always wanted to, but now that you were so close, him asleep and your inhibitions out the window, it really was the only thing on the table.

Hard muscle underneath soft skin met your fingers, and you would have almost jumped at the initial contact, but the high you got from it was too great to pass up on the opportunity. Before you knew it, your whole hand was sprawled across his abdomen, and it barely covered any surface of the massive space.

Bucky awoke with a sharp intake of breath. “Doll? Wha– what are you doing?” He lifted his hands to rub his eyes, and wasn’t that cutest sight?

Your hand was still stuck to his skin as if by magic. It went unnoticed by you until Bucky’s fingers wrapped around your wrist. He didn’t pull away, but it was enough for you to jerk your hand out of his grip, startled.

“Sorry, I– I don’t know what I was thinking,” you stammered and moved further back until your feet hit the ground. You’d been in Bucky’s apartment countless of times, so you had no problem finding the bathroom to hide there. You stumbled on your way there, still tipsy, but didn’t care. You really weren’t yourself today at all.

The clock on the shelf told you that it was around four in the morning. You had no idea how long you’d been here, how long you’d been asleep next to him without knowing it.

There was a knock on the door. “Doll? What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again?” Worry laced his voice, but you were more put off by ‘again’. Had you thrown up before? But with the way your clothes gave off this weird stench that hadn’t been there when you’d gotten ready for the club earlier on, you were sure you must have.

You shook your head before realizing that he couldn’t see it, and called out a quiet, “I’m good.”

“No, you’re not.” Bucky leaned his head on the other side of the door. “Please, let me in.”

Fumbling with the hem of the shirt that had slipped out of your skirt, you closed your eyes. You shouldn’t have left the bed, you thought as tiredness was taking over again. “It’s fine,” you said, more to yourself than him, “he didn’t want me either.”

Bucky opened his eyes and frowned at the dark wood of his bathroom door. “He?” he mumbled to himself, ugly jealousy rising within him. “Doll, will you please tell me what’s wrong?”

If you thought about it, he’d gotten up in the middle of the night to pick you up from a club where you’d been practically having a panic attack in front of, taken you to his house, and carried your vomit-covered self all the way to his bed where he’d fallen asleep on top on the covers, all just because you’d called him. He deserved an explanation, and you – being drunk and thus a dangerous mixture of brave and stupid – would probably tell him everything. So, you opened the door and let your shoulders drop, huffing out a deep breath. “Could I lend a shirt first? I feel disgusting.”

Bucky offered you a soft – and tired-looking – smile before he nodded and walked towards his wardrobe. Pulling out one of his shirts and a pair of leggings – you recognized them as the ones you’d been missing for ages –, he pointed towards the bedroom with his head. “Here. I’ll wait for you.”

When you appeared at the foot of the bed a few minutes later, you felt a lot better. The shirt felt like sitting in a tent, but that’s what you loved about it. You had a few shirts of his at home that he’d forgotten there at one point or another for that exact reason. Bucky looked up and opened his arms for you, to which you quickly stepped forward and let yourself get wrapped up in his arms. His hugs were the ones you enjoyed the most, and he always greeted you like this, had been for years.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into the crook of his neck. “I’m a drunk mess.”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows and pulled you closer. “Don’t be. Happens to the best of us.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling ready to pull out of his embrace.

“Why were you even there?” Bucky asked, “where were your friends when I picked you up?”

Sitting back on your calves you scrunched your nose, knowing he wouldn’t be pleased to hear your answer. “They weren’t with me,” you confessed, “I went alone.”

“Alone? Are you insane?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, accidentally showing his biceps in the process, and you suddenly felt like a little girl getting punished.

You shrugged but managed to stop yourself from pouting. “I didn’t need them for my plan.” And just like that, the cat was out of the bag. You couldn’t help yourself really, if you were drunk so was your filter that usually kept you from saying things that got you into too much trouble.

Bucky tilted his head to the side and you sighed, giving up.

“I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

There was silence. You were looking at each other. Bucky was speechless, trying his best to come up with anything to say that would be tactful. A million things were going through his mind at once, but he couldn’t coherently string them together to save his life.

“I know it’s ridiculous,” you said, “I’m nineteen–almost twenty­–and I still haven’t had sex. It’s not even about whether my friends have done it, not at all. But it’s so _boring_ not having sex and I don’t want to be the kind of person that is all dried up before they get the chance to _really_ go for it. I wanna be adventurous and spontaneous and _exciting_.”

Bucky had stared at you, following your ramblings, and now he closed his eyes for a second before he said softly, “you don’t have to sleep with a stranger from a club to be all that, Y/N.” He wasn’t tutting you or trying to make you feel like a naïve little girl, and you didn’t take it that way.

“But it’s fucking boring, Bucky,” you argued, then said, suddenly quiet, “I want to know what it feels like.”

He put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you at arm’s length. This moment here was an important one. It would matter what he said next, and although he’d always been a decent person, he wanted to be better for you. Even before he’d figured out that he had feelings for you, he’d wanted to impress you and never say a wrong word in front of you. “I know being a virgin is not a big deal anymore – as it shouldn’t be, that’s just bullshit – but maybe you should consider waiting for the right person. Not until you get married, if you don’t want to wait that long. But, in my experience, your first time should be with someone you trust and love, someone you know won’t hurt you and will make sure everything is consensual always, not with a random drunk guy you found at a club.”

“But that’s the thing. Nobody wants me. No one likes me enough to get to know me and no one who already knows me likes me enough to want to be with me.” The last part you said directly about him, and suddenly became painfully aware of just how close he was. There was barely enough space between you that your respective body heat wouldn’t mix and your words got stuck in your throat. He was beautiful always, but up close like this, you could make out every single detail of his face. Bucky’d gotten older over the last few years, and, his thirtieth birthday coming up, you couldn’t help but notice that he was slowly beginning to age, but it suited him immensely.

Your head moved forward on its own accord. Your mind had absolutely nothing to do with it, your heart had the upper hand, otherwise you would never have kissed him. But you did. Your chapped lips almost met his soft ones for just a moment, relishing in the feeling of being that close to him for just that short amount of time, before you felt him tense up under your touch, and pulled back instantly.

But Bucky’s hands found their way to the sides of your face and held you there, keeping you from moving too far away.

“Don’t run away from me again,” he said.

“It’s just,” and you said this trying desperately to keep your crush a secret, “you said to go for someone I trust, and I trust you.” You bit your lip mostly in embarrassment but kept your eyes trained on his.

Bucky closed his eyes. He wanted this, badly, just the idea of being the one to pop your cherry almost had him distracted, but you were not at all in the state to make this kind of decision and he would not watch you make a mistake as big as this one. “You don’t really want this, doll. You’re still drunk and don’t know what you’re saying.”

“No, I do!” you exclaimed, “why won’t anyone stop treating me like a child? It’s unfair and really fucking painful.”

Bucky took his hands off you and threw his head back, sighing. “Believe me, I stopped seeing you as a child a long time ago,” he mumbled before facing you again. “I’m not saying no because you’re a kid – which you’re not anymore – but you’re drunk and just four hours ago you were crying and puking into the bushes of a club, calling me to come get you. You’re not feeling well and I don’t want your drunk and probably horny self making decisions you’re going to regret in the morning.”

Eyes widened, you asked, “how the hell do you know I’m horny?” Yep, your filter still wasn’t back on. All the alcohol had loosened your lips too much for your own good.

Bucky breathed out a laugh. “I was at your eighteenth birthday party, remember?”

“Oh, God. Don’t remind me,” you groaned, wincing.

He just shook his head fondly, opening his arms again. “C’mere.” And you all but fell forward into his chest as he leaned back to lay you both down on the mattress again. “You should really get some more sleep.”

You nodded against his side, cuddled into his armpit, but asked, “okay but what if tomorrow I still feel the same, will you take my virginity?”

“Doll, I–“

“It doesn’t have to be romantic,” you cut him off before he could reject you, “you don’t have to love me or anything, and we’ll never talk about it again. My brother won’t know about it, so you won’t get in trouble.”

But that wasn’t the problem. He was so gone for you that he didn’t even care if he had to fight your brother for your hand, even if that sounded cheesy and barbaric. But he didn’t want to sleep with you and never mention it again, and he didn’t want to lie to you like that.

“Plus,” you added, “you get a nice fuck out of it, so it’s a win-win situation.”

That did it for him. He sat up abruptly, not caring that your head fell against the mattress ruggedly. “What the fuck kind of person do you think I am, Y/N?” he asked, voice exasperated and a little hurt, “I know I had a few different girlfriends in the past – and some one night stands – but that doesn’t give you the right to speak to me like that. You know that I’m a decent person and even if we’re not in love with each other–“ which he definitely was “–doesn’t mean that I care so little about you that I would treat you like some girl to get my dick wet.”

Fuck, he was right. “You’re right,” you said softly, “and I’m sorry.” You gently put your hands on his shoulders. He’d turned away from you, mostly because he didn’t want to have to look you in the eye right now. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s my drunk self talking, just like you said,” you said, and that pulled a little smile to Bucky’s lips, “I’d be really fucking lucky to end up with a guy like you.”

“Nice safe, baby.”

You beamed a triumphant grin. “Does that mean you forgive me for being such an ass?”

Bucky turned back towards you. “You know, I’ve already forgiven you for anything you could ever do to me.”

You gulped. The tension that had come with this statement was not lost on you and you suddenly felt the urge to cry. Why wasn’t he in love with you like you were with him? The two of you would never work, no matter how desperately you wanted it to, it was unfair. “Me, too.”

“Let’s go to sleep, then.”

:::::

When you woke up again – this time, not in a panic – the bed beside you was empty. But you knew where you were, and remembered everything that had happened a few hours ago, and you felt the need to apologize to him again. So you pushed the soft blankets off your body, even though it almost hurt to do so, knowing that you wouldn’t sleep this comfortably for a while, and headed off to the kitchen, where you heard the clatter of pots and pans.

Your bare feet announced your presence before Bucky could see you walk through the hallway.

“Hi,” you said, but had no idea where to go from there.

He turned towards you with an almost shy smile. “Morning,” he said, “hangover?”

You shook your head and at his disbelieving expression you added, “I’ve never had one.”

“No way.” Bucky tilted his head with a frown.

“Yes way,” you laughed, “I feel a little off but that’s it. There’s no way I’m eating though, I don’t think I’ll like anything in my body right now.”

Bucky turned around and looked through his fridge. “What if I make you something that won’t sit heavily in your stomach?”

“No, just–“ you shook your head “–I want to talk. If that’s okay.”

He faced you again.

“About, uh, yesterday.”

He studied you for a moment before he wordlessly walked to his couch, patting the space to his left. “I’m not mad at you.”

“I know you’re not.” You sat down next to him, folding your legs beneath you. “Doesn’t mean I’m not sorry.”

“Baby.” He pulled you into a hug, burying one hand in your hair. “You weren’t yourself last night.”

You pulled back. “Well, um, yes and no. I definitely didn’t mean to be rude to you like that, but I, uh, I meant what I said about you taking my virginity.” The eye contact was becoming heavier and heavier with every passing second, but you couldn’t not look at him. You wanted to know his reaction, and for him to know that you were serious.

Bucky seemed to budge. “Are you sure?” he asked, “why me?”

“Because you’re the person I trust most in this world.”

And that convinced him, no matter how much he willed it not to. He reached out and pulled you onto his lap in one move, his hands finding your hips, but before he kissed you, he asked for permission.

“Please,” you breathed and nodded, but something came to your mind, bringing you back to the present. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” you confessed and cringed, fearing his reaction.

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Never?”

You shook your head.

“And you’re certain you want to kiss _me_?” He looked genuinely concerned, while the thought of not wanting to kiss him hadn’t been on your mind for years.

“Very certain.”

A grin broke out on his face before he pulled you in by your chin. Carefully as ever, he placed his lips on yours. Your eyes fluttered closed, as if through surprise, and maybe you even were surprised by the feeling the kiss brought you. It was unlike anything you’d imagined, and you couldn’t help but whimper against his lips. Bucky took that as a sign to pull you closer. Your hips moved on their own accord, you wanted to feel him even more and pressed up against him.

“Baby,” Bucky mumbled to interrupt the kiss but didn’t actually stop until a few moments later. When you rolled your hips for the first time, not even noticing it, he spoke again, “baby, slow down.” He was already half-hard in his sweat pants, but he couldn’t get distracted just yet.

You shook your head and leaned in once more.

“Doll,” he laughed against your lips, hands moving down your back, “I’m serious.” He put enough distance between you both to withhold eye contact. “Tell me what you want.”

“Touch me,” you replied instantly, breathing hard, wanting everything but not knowing how to phrase it. Hips bucking, they met his arms that wrapped around your back, before he stood up. On instinct, your legs tightened around his middle, and you started to place little kisses all over his jaw and neck.

“I’m gonna trip if you keep that up,” he joked as he made his way to the bedroom. You barely felt the mattress as he gently laid you down on it.

Bucky pulled back, standing at the foot of the bed, to look at you, really take you in. You were undoubtedly beautiful like this, spread out before him, even though you hadn’t actually started yet. All he’d done was kiss you and he was already hooked, if not a little light-headed.

“Do you want me to take off my shirt?”

He grinned. “It certainly would help,” he teased and your tension in your body loosened a little. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt you were wearing and moved to slowly peel it off your skin.

“Oh, look at you,” Bucky hummed at the sight of your breasts exposed to him, moving to kneel on the bed, “fuck, doll, you’re beautiful.” Before you could cover yourself, suddenly shy, he caught your hands mid-air. “I’m gonna see a lot more of you. Don’t start hiding yourself.”

You bet your lip, nodding your head. “It’s unfair, though. You’re still wearing your shirt.”

“Oh, you’re right.” And then, it was off and you had a perfect view of Bucky’s incredible body. You’d seen it before, at pool parties, or whenever he took a shower at your house, but this situation was vastly different, so it felt like you were looking at him in for the first time.

“You okay?” Bucky asked suddenly, “you’re staring at me with those big eyes of yours.”

You nodded. “Can you kiss me again?”

Bucky moved forward. He pulled your legs apart so he could kneel in between them, and leaned in until you were face to face again. The two of you kissed gently at first, as you had on the couch, but it became much more very quickly. Tongues clashing, teeth nibbling, breath hitching, you kissed until both of you were breathless. Running your fingers through his hair, they followed his head down as he kissed his way across your jaw, neck, and finally, your breasts. He placed open-mouthed kisses all over your skin before he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. A deep sigh slipped past your lips. Tugging on the thick strands between your fingers, roughly on accident, you pulled a groan out of him that spurred both of you on even further.

“More,” you whispered and angled your head down so you could see him better. Pupils blown, he met your gaze hazily and pinched your nipple with his teeth. He licked over the bud just a second later, as you arched your back to get him closer. His other hand slipped down your back, finding its way beneath your panties, and kneading the soft flesh of your ass with relish, pulling you closer against his body. Before he moved on to your other breast, he pulled back slightly to blow cold air over your spit-glistening bud. You inhaled sharply at the sensation. “Fuck.”

Bucky smiled, licking lips before he dove back in. Your own fingers pinched and pulled at the breast he was not paying as much attention to, and you quickly became light-headed. The aching need between your legs grew more and more unbearable with every one of Bucky’s ministrations to your body. He played you like a fiddle and it was exactly what you needed.

It wasn’t long until Bucky went on and abandoned your now almost over-sensitive, slightly swollen nipples, taking the party further south. He kissed along the lines of your stomach until he reached the edge of your panties, though not pulling them down. Looking up, deep into your eyes, he studied your reaction as he ever so lightly brushed his knuckles against your core through the damp fabric.

A whimper left your mouth, the sheer intensity of his gaze focusing your attention solely on him. When his fingers hooked under the cotton, pulling it down so slowly you almost lost the ability to breathe with the torture of it. His face still a little too close for comfort, now that you were naked just mere inches away from him, you were confused when he dove in.

“What are you doing?” you asked in a shaky whisper before he could touch you.

Bucky pulled back and tilted his head like a confused puppy. “I was gonna eat you out?” There was a question in there somewhere. You were responding to him so beautifully that it was easy to forget that this was your first time.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. “You don’t have to do that,” you said quickly.

Now he was even more confused. “Do you not want me to?”

Eyes screwed shut in embarrassment, you bit your lip. “Not if you don’t want to do it. I know that most men don’t like it.”

“What?” Bucky almost got angry at that. “First of all, I fucking love it. And second, anyone who says they don’t like eating pussy is a fucking dickhead and not worth your time, doll.” This conversation started to turn into a lecture that really didn’t fit the situation and the feeling he wanted you to have, so he moved back up your body to kiss you again. And it reminded him of something. “Baby, have you ever touched yourself?” he asked and you almost choked on your own spit.

Hesitantly, you nodded.

The sheer thought of that had Bucky wanting to relieve the pressure in his groin, with a nice hand around himself, maybe even watching you touch yourself for him. He shook the thought off quickly. “Good,” he simply said, and asked, “can you tell what it is that you like? Light touches, or hard? Do you want me to go fast, slow, maybe rough, even?”

You shook your head. “All of it,” you confessed, breathless, “just touch me, please.” Desperation heavily laced your voice and Bucky almost started to feel bad for teasing you for this long, but he needed it to be as good for you as it was for him.

“Okay,” he whispered, “and I want you to really let go, yeah? Nothing to be ashamed of.” Kissing you one last time before he settled into the space between your spread legs, he held your folds apart with his thumbs and started gently licking around your tight hole.

Whimpering, you let your head fall back against the cushions. “Oh.”

He gathered some of your practically dripping wetness before he flattened his tongue and licked a thick stripe right up to your clit.

“Oh, my fucking god!” you exclaimed at that first contact and barely lost the volume as he went on making you feel fucking incredible.

Bucky couldn’t get the thought of being the first man to ever touch you like this, the first to make you feel this good, to see you lose yourself like this, just for him, and it only spurred him on further. He glanced up to see you pinch your nipples again, back arched off the bed. The random patterns he painted with his tongue, back and forth, up and down, tight circles, had you mewling and he was fucking proud to be pulling those moans from your chest. You buried one hand in his hair and pushed up against his mouth, wanting him closer and you didn’t know what to name it but your cunt clenched around nothing, desperate for friction.

His ministrations became faster and faster, and he could tell that you were close to your first orgasm by your quick breathing and the high little moans that fell from your lips. You didn’t care what you looked like, what you sounded like, the only things that mattered were Bucky and the way you felt the heat coil in your stomach tighter than it ever had. To him, though, nobody had ever seemed more gorgeous beneath him like this, and he couldn’t wait to get inside you for the first time. But with the way you were shaking beneath him, chasing your pleasure, he couldn’t contain himself. He pulled back.

The sudden loss of contact made your eyes widen, mouth falling open in a helpless whine.

“Are you close, baby?” He asked, his fingers just barely touching your clit.

You couldn’t believe he would tease you like this and were only able to nod, practically pouting.

A smile curled Bucky’s lips. “Then ask for it.”

“Please,” you whispered instantly, the word caught in a shaky breath.

Bucky leaned down, kissing along your pubic mound. “Again.”

“Please.”

His tongue back on your clit, you moaned the next one.

“Please.”

He pulled you closer to the edge with every stroke of his tongue, and he used that to push a finger inside you, searching out your sweet spot. He knew he found it when your back arched again, and he could feel even more wetness spreading across his hand. “Again, baby.”

The last time you begged, the word was barely audible when it fell from your lips in a hushed whisper, but you were too close to care. Waiting for Bucky to say the words, the only thing on your mind was how incredible you felt and how much that would multiply once he would let it.

Bucky pulled back just enough to get a good view of you and said, “cum for me.”

And you did. You really did. His fingers and tongue pulled the most amazing orgasm out of you that your own would ever be able to, and you saw stars as the waved crashed and crashed over you, throwing you over the edge.

Heart beating in your ears, chest heaving, you tried to get some air back in your lungs as Bucky slowed his movements to help you come down.

“You’re a bit of a screamer, doll,” he said once you looked at him again.

Your eyes widened. You hadn’t noticed that.

“Don’t freak out, it’s hot.” That signature shit-eating grin he always pulled usually annoyed you, but right now, you couldn’t care less. Kneeling back on the mattress, Bucky sucked off his fingers, mercilessly keeping the eye contact, before he leaned down to wipe his mouth with the corner of a bedsheet. You could do nothing but watch.

“Ready for more, baby?”

Helplessly, you nodded and watched him step off the bed to get rid of his sweatpants and underwear. He let you look for a second and the only thing you could come up with, besides a healthy amount of fear, was the fact that he really was a masterpiece.

“I really shouldn’t tell you this but sometimes, when I, um–” You nibbled at the side of your cheek, a nervous habit you despised. “–when I touch myself, I think of you. But it never feels like this.”

Bucky had his eyes closed, trying to compose himself with a shaky breath. “You really are gonna be the death of me.”

You watched his abs clench as he leaned forward to climb back onto the bed with you. Once he was close enough, you pulled him closer by the back of his neck, connecting your mouths in a desperate kiss. Bucky settled on top of you.

The two of you kissed for a while, hands roaming, tongues clashing, before he brought enough space between your lips to say, “gimme a sec.” He stretched out his arm for the bedside table, reaching into the drawer.

“I’m on the pill,” you said and Bucky looked at you like you had grown a second head. “Precaution. But’s not like I’ve been with anybody. And I trust you.”

“This isn’t about trust, but safety,” Bucky said, “we can talk about this for, like, another time, but for now, we’re not risking anything.”

You bit your lip, nodding. Maybe you really hadn’t thought the whole thing about letting a stranger take your virginity through.

“Hey.” Bucky placed a gentle kiss onto the tip of your nose. “We don’t have to do this if you’re having second thoughts.”

“No, I want to.” Staring into his eyes, you hoped that he could see that you were being honest. And he did. Kissing you one last time, he settled back on his calves. He ripped open the package with his teeth and a wink that made you chuckle lightly.

“That’s my girl,” he teased, “I wanna see you laugh, not frown.”

He’d called you his girl, and the thought of that was accompanied by your heart that beat against your ribcage almost painfully. You were lucky.

Before you knew it, he was back on top of you, wrapping your legs around his waist loosely. “You ready?”

You nodded.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your collar bone as he waited for your answer.

“Yes, Bucky,” you said honestly, and with a little bit of courage, you added, “I want you to fuck me.”

Bucky, in turn, almost choked on his spit. “You little minx,” he mumbled against your skin, but his hand slid back down to your core. You responded beautifully, gasping loudly as he buried two fingers inside you slowly to prepare you. The first orgasm had already loosened you up a bit, so Bucky kept his movements short but sweet, not wanting to drag this out any further.

He kissed you softly, pulling you in by the back of your neck. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you whispered, biting your lip.

Bucky’s gaze was fixed upon yours as he guided his cock towards your entrance before pushing in carefully. It was beyond what you had imagined, the feeling taking over completely.

“God, you’re tight,” Bucky groaned, bottoming out and halting his movements, “tell me when to move.”

You nodded frantically. “Do it.”

“No, baby, I–“

“Please,” you whined, “please move.” For emphasis, your hips rolled up against his and both of you moaned in response.

But Bucky grasped you by the waist, keeping you still. “You need to relax first, doll,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Kiss me,” you begged. Bucky, of course, obliged and used that distraction to roll his hips for the first time. God, it felt amazing. Neither of you could imagine being anywhere else than here, doing this, and you stopped kissing to look at each other, taking in what the other felt as Bucky thrust forwards again and again.

“Bucky,” you whimpered just for the sake of feeling his name on your tongue.

“I know,” he replied, “me, too.”

He picked up the pace slightly, fucking you a little harder, and you gasped, throwing your head back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to hold onto something and Bucky buried his face in your neck. Both of you were getting closer and closer and there was no denying that. Bucky had wanted to keep this going for as long as he could but never in a million years had the thought that being inside you would feel like this.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last,” he groaned against your skin and you pulled his head up to kiss him.

Shaking your head, you whimpered, “me neither,” followed by a loud moan as he hit a particularly good spot. “Fuck.”

Bucky leaned back enough to his forearms next to your head as leverage to fuck you even harder until the force of it shook your body. At first, he was afraid it would be too much but you just gripped him tighter, burying your fingertips into the skin of his shoulders, moaning loudly. You were close, he was sure of it.

“You gonna come, baby?” He playfully bit your nipple again, making you whine.

You could do nothing but nod your head vehemently, forming words wasn’t on the table anymore.

Staring down at you so he could remember your reaction forever, he reached down to where the two of you were connected, rubbing your clit. “I wanna see you cum, baby,” he said, “cum for me, c’mon.”

You let the pleasure take over. Eyes screwed shut, you pushed your whole body against his, bucking your hips to meet his thrusts as you finally climaxed for the second time. It hit you a little harder than the first, and you were still going when you heard Bucky moan next to your ear as he, too, fell over the edge.

Moments later, he felt your walls constricting around him as you came down from your orgasm, and wasn’t that the best feeling?

“I love you,” he said out of absolutely nowhere, apparently not the master over his tongue.

Your breath hitched. There was no way.

Bucky regretted it instantly when you didn’t reply right away, but he felt the need to lift his head, look you in the eye, and say it again. “I love you.”

There was significant doubt in your features but when you saw that look in his eyes, it changed into the expression of a child on Christmas. “I love you, too.”

Bucky gasped disbelievingly. “Are you serious?”

Biting your lip, you nodded. But the smile slid off your face when Bucky leaned back to pull out. You winced.

“Shit,” Bucky said, all but concerned, “did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Just a little sore,” you said and pulled him in for another kiss.

After he had gotten rid of the condom and rolled you over so you could sprawl across his chest, it was quiet for a moment. Then, you had to break the silence, “I have to pee.”

“Noo,” Bucky groaned, “not now. We’re so comfy.”

That made you giggle. “I really do need to pee, though.”

“Then go,” he said and playfully shoved you off his chest, “but don’t you dare put on any clothes.”

You stole the shirt you’d worn previously off the floor nonetheless before you tip-toed to the bathroom.

“I can still see your butt, doll,” he called after you.

“No, you fucking can’t.”

You could hear his laughter from the hallway.

When you came back, Bucky had put on his pair of sweatpants and pulled off half the sheets of his bedding. You looked at him quizzically.

“It’s sweaty,” he explained.

“But I wanna cuddle,” you pouted.

Bucky rolled his eyes mockingly. “Give me two minutes.”

“What if I do this?” you asked and began to raise the hem of your shirt.

“Oh, I dare you.” Bucky gave the sheets one more try before he ultimately opted to pull them off the bed altogether. Then, he stalked towards you. In one swift move, he picked you up and threw you back onto the mattress. Giggling, you tried fruitlessly to fight him off as he kissed his way up your body.

However, you were mercilessly interrupted when you heard the front door to Bucky’s apartment slam open and shut.

“Buck!” Your brother’s voice boomed through the hallway as he called for his best friend. Alarmed, you stared at each other. “We need to find Y/N. I’ve been calling and texting her all day but she won’t respond.” He was nearing the bedroom, you were sure of it, but both of you were stuck, completely in shock.

“What do we do?” you asked nervously.

“You need to put on some pants,” Bucky said the first thing that came to his mind, “now!”

You scrambled off the bed as Bucky tried to straighten the covers, but you were too slow. Your brother was already in the doorway a moment later.

“What the fuck is this?”


End file.
